


altså

by solitariusvirtus



Category: The Rain (TV 2018)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen, Post Season 1
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-09 11:46:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14715431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solitariusvirtus/pseuds/solitariusvirtus
Summary: Accordingly, they trudge on.





	1. i.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Altså can be used variously to mean 'accordingly', 'thus', 'therefore', 'indeed' or 'I mean', but is also a much more articulate alternative to saying '... er'.

The tank wouldn’t last them much longer. Simone frowned, her eyes upon a particular cloud, tracing its movements with some attention. It was that she found it very interesting. In truth, she would rather be doing anything else. Well, aside from going into the bunker and staring at her brother sitting behind glass panels, isolated from the rest of them. Clouds were infinitely easier to deal with.

“Simone.” She jumped, the unexpected sound sending her half a step forward.

“Don’t do that.” Lea chuckled, understandably amused. Simone turned to face her. “Something happen?” She worried. It couldn’t really be helped. If only she didn’t have to.

“You’ve been out here a while.” What went unsaid she could make out well enough in spite of Lea’s uncommonly blank expression. “I’m here. If you need me.” She held her hand out, a small smile cracking her mask. That was more like it. Her relief was nearly palpable. Simone gave a brief nod, taking the other’s hand to signal her acceptance.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do.” In itself, the worry was not new. The pressure, however, grew more and more, the longer they moved around. “We’re running out of gas. Rasmus is not getting any better. And I’ve no idea what to do about any of it.”

“What else?” There was something she hadn’t spoken of. A small detail Simone did not have the courage to bring up. She couldn’t even stand the thought. Nonetheless, the thought hounded her until tears flooded her eyes, blurring her gaze. Lea’s arms wrapped around her, the warm manner comforting as only her mother had been a lifetime ago.

“He would have killed Rasmus. He killed all those people. I waited for him. For years.” Her throat burned with the effort of getting the words out. At the same time, he was her father and no matter how many times over she reminded herself that he’d done horrific thing, her heart shrivelled beneath her breast. He was still the man who’d held her after she woke screaming from a bout of nightmares. He was the man she’d gone to with scraped knees, teary eyes and a world of hope. He’d saved Rasmus’ life once.          

Simone was incapable of slapping any sort of label upon him on account of their long history and the unexpected twist which later separated them. Had he always known this would be the result of his work? No; he would not have fretted so over them otherwise. In his own way, now that she was far from him, she could understand that he’d tried protecting them. Not in any way that she liked. Not in any way which she could accept without guilt growing like vine upon her gratitude. She could do little about her father but pour her grief into the willing shoulder of a friend.

“We’re well rid of him now.” For how long? Simone shied away from the answer. “And Rasmus will keep. And you have us.” She sniffled. Indeed, she had them and her own strength and whatever else she could get her hands on.

She felt somewhat better once the pent-up tension found its release. The worry did not entirely fade. She did not expect that it would. Nonetheless, she managed a watery smile. “Thank you, Lea. I cannot tell you how much this means to me.”

“Let’s get you inside.” Lea, one arm thrown about her shoulder, steered her towards the entrance. They climbed down the stairs together, entering the range of fluorescent light. It took a moment for her eyes to grow used to it, much faster than she’d grown used to sunlight after years locked away from it.

The sound of conversation filtered through the deeper they entered. It was no surprise to find Patrick and Jean in the common area. A small argument had ensued over something or another and Lea broke away from her to put an end to it. Mostly though, she tried to make out what it was that they were arguing over in the first place. For her part, Simone moved past them with a shake of the head and approached the layers of glass separating her from Ramsus.

Her brother was watching her. His eyes, wide and blue, filled with regret which never quite let up, lingered. She pressed her hand against the glass, trying for a smile. It wouldn’t do to let him see her doubts. “Want something to eat?” He shook his head.

While Ramsus exhibited some distress when she offered him food, he rarely refused the sustenance. Simone did not press. They’d all eaten after taking shelter and she herself had merely been trying to distract him. A nod was the only response she could give, moving away with a wave, feeling awkward.

With nothing else to do, as she did not wish to disturb Martin’s rest, she opened the door to the room which would serve as bedroom. Her backpack was neatly placed in a corner, along with a few other things she’d decided to take along when they left. The hummer had enough space to fit all of it. Besides, if they were to head back into town, they’d need some of it.   

Simone sat down, allowing herself a deep breath. There were still the Strangers to take into account.  Their absence, notable for the brief spell it afforded, could not go on forever. Apollon headquarters continued in its effort to bring some semblance of normalcy for its employees and until they mustered the men and necessary tools to chase after them some time would have to lapse. She only hoped they’d be in better shape when they did find them.

The sound of conversation rose in volume and for a moment she considered making her way back out. Yet it quietened just as soon and the door opened to allow Lea inside. “The guys say we should be on our way early tomorrow morning. I’m taking first shift. You rest a little.”

“Sure thing.”        

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still struggling to write anything in modern setting :))
> 
> I plan this to be a sort of slice-of-life thingy.


	2. ii.

The pitter-patter of tiny droplets hurtling against the protective walls of the bunker was clearly discernible in the quiet of the space. A manner of white noise which would have been enjoyable were it not for the fact that the particular downpour was likely deadly. Rain which killed people. In her younger years, she’d done her fair share of reading; not once did she think she’d ever find herself in a scenario resembling those particularly engaging heroes found themselves in. To her consternation, she had wished for just as exciting an existence. Simone leaned her head against the wall, fingers pressing against her nape to massage the stiffness settling sharply at the base.

No one would make the dangerous journey through the deluge, of that she was certain. It was for that reason that the rifle was resting at her feet and not in her arms. Normally, Martin would wield it. An injured shoulder, however, seemed reason enough to restrict his efforts, with anything, until the wound mended. She’d never realised how heavy it was.

She eyed the darkened interior of the bunker. There was only one light on, the one she stood under. It was more than enough to give her a sense of comfort, and knowing her companions were so close by doubled that. Nevertheless, when something disturbed the quietness, she flinched, hairs standing on end. It was quiet enough noises, rustling and footfalls. Someone was coming up.

“Martin?” Surprise must have been clear on her face as the blackness expelled his form into semi-darkness. “What are you doing out of bed?” He was supposed to be resting. Her shift was third, which more or less made it the middle of the night. She motioned him over with a welcoming smile.

“I’ve slept long enough.” He sat on one of the lower steps, near enough to touch. His gaze moved from her face to the rifle. And then he was back to looking at her. “How are you holding up?” He wasn’t asking her about keeping watch. The tone of his voice indicated something infinitely more intimate.

“I’m doing my best.” The naked vulnerability was uncomfortable. Not because she lacked trust in him or because she found her current position uncomfortable. It was a natural reaction, a remnant of some far older instinct which ages of socialisation had not managed to eradicate. His hand settled atop hers, thumb gently stroking back and forth. Even in the low light she could make out the bullet hole left in his jacket. Simone tried not to stare, but just as with any other disturbing occurrence, she found it difficult to draw away.

Simone sighed. Martin made himself comfortable, stretching out a leg. “You are. We’ll be fine.” She was the one usually infusing a dose of optimism into their bleak existence, but just like the rest of them experience changed her. Strange as it seemed for their roles to reverse, it failed to take her by surprise. Their eyes met and held.

The moment was cut short by someone clearing their throat. “And here I thought I’d keep Simone company.”

“Nice of you, Patrick,” she chuckled softly. “Come sit with us.” Tension flared briefly before it petered away. Simone supposed it was too much to ask for a blank slate. She settled for the conscious choice of letting past grudges go, even if it did happen to slog along at a snail’s pace.   

Patrick hesitated for just a moment. He sat a step lower than Martin. “Shouldn’t you shuffle off to sleep now?” Something in his expression soured for a brief moment before disappearing altogether.

“We’ll do you one better and sit here for a little bit,” Martin answered, the grin on his face drowning the last of her worries in regards to the two of them.  It had a like effect on Patrick as he slumped against the wall. His legs remained firmly bent. As promised, they sat there, the three of them, engaged in silent conversation while time passed them by.

Simone was content to listen without much intervention, happy to learn of past adventures and misadventures. Mostly misadventures. She choked back laughter at one of Patrick’s vivid descriptions, complete with expletives and a fair amount of annoyance. It was somehow relieving to find out the foundation of their collaboration was that much stronger than she’d imagined.

In the end, they left Patrick to his watch, making their way back downstairs.

Simone led Martin back to his own room, noting his step was firmer than before.  Hopefully that meant he was on the mend. Thus Simone did not protest when he wrapped an arm around her waist, applying light pressure. Drawing away, she gave a nod along with gentle squeeze. She didn’t need the words and did not hesitate in joining him after she’d discarded her shoes and socks.  

Having grown used to huddling close for warmth and creature comforts, she found it easy enough to settle. And the knowledge that it was Martin she pressed close against did not manage to upset her comfort at all. She’d thought it would. Careful of his shoulder, Simone did her best to avoid pressing any weight on it. The last thing they needed was another type of infection taking root.

She felt his arm band around her waist, heavy enough to make its presence known, yet comforting all the same, solid and real. Simone breathed in through her nose slowly. “We should stick to this arrangement,” Martin suggested, his voice breathy.

“I’d like that.” She thought back on what Rasmus had told her about Martin and Beatrice. It did not feel right to drag any of it up. Instead she closed her eyes, placing her hand against his chest, just above his heart.  He made a sound which might have been encouragement. They still had some hours before they had to make their way back to the city, which left them with an opportunity not like to return anytime soon. Bunkers she might not enjoy, but they had their advantages.


	3. iii.

They stored the boxes in the furthest corner of the narrow hallway leading to the entrance. While it would be all the more difficult for the Strangers to track them to that particular apartment, their relocation came with its own set of problems. They’d blocked the door as well as they could manage, but given they lacked a most important element, the key, it would be as close as they got to making the space safe. Simone eyed the provisions critically, even with one of them placed before the small stack, there was still danger in it.

Three raps on the door alerted them to Patrick’s return. Jean hurriedly removed all impediments baring the other’s entrance and she breathed out a sigh of relief to see him in as good a shape as that in which he’d left. “Anything out there?”

“Not even a shadow.” That, at least, was expected. She observed the slight grimace on the man’s face and considered questioning him but let the matter drop just as soon when she caught sight of Martin, on his feet.

She turned, fully intending to give him a scold. “What part of ‘rest’ is that difficult to understand?” Men were all the same. Give them a perfectly safe option to follow and they did the exact opposite. Simone buried the urge to shake her head.

But Martin simply took her by the shoulder, uninjured hand boasting as strong a grip as ever. She took some heart in that, knowing it to be a good sign in spite of the discomfort rattling her bones. A heavy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach, its descent uncommonly painful.  Almost like a warning.  She shook it off, unable to make any manner of decent assumption on so small an amount of information.

Martin guided them in one of the empty rooms. It was one of those old apartments, converted from what had been the home of some wealthy merchant or nobleman. Large rooms divided by thin walls, thinner than the original workmanship. It was to be expected. Unease forgotten, Simone blinked Martin into focus, done admiring for the time being. “What’s the matter?”

“How did your brother know about this place?” His eyes bore into hers. “Have you been here before?“ As much as she would have liked to laugh, even if nervously, at the question, she found she couldn’t even sketch the shadow of a smile when it came down to actually considering what lay at its heart. How had her brother known, indeed?         

“Never.” And yet Rasmus had been insistent. Certain that no ill would befall them within these walls.  “I could ask him.” She’d been so relieved that there was a safe haven for them to burrow in for the time being, keeping away from the dangerous streets. “But do we really want to know? To me, it doesn’t really matter, as long as we are safe.”

“I just find it strange.” To that she agreed with a nod of her head.

“But we have to pick our battles.” Simone wasn’t the cautious one. If anything she was the heart to Martin’s shield. To find herself in the cautionary positioned felt odd. “We can question Rasmus when the time is right.” In a bid to distract him from the matter, she introduced another concern, “I want to have a look at your shoulder.”

“My shoulder’s fine.” He nevertheless tensed. That was more than enough to give her an idea on the state of his shoulder. She gave him a long, quelling look. It seemed to work well enough. He grimaced.

“Go sit over there,” she nodded towards a chair. Whatever his reasoning, Martin elected to comply.

She busied herself with removing his shirt and then the bandages wound around the wound to keep dirt and other undesirable elements away until the skin had managed to mend. She neither poked nor prodded at the yet unhealed injury. The flesh, pinkish-red and raw-looking stood out against the lighter tones surrounding it.

It didn’t look any better or worse than before. Simone cocked her head to the side, trying to find an appropriate comment to make. One which would put Martin’s mind at ease. “It seems like it’s mending along well. I’ll put some more disinfectant on it.”

True to her words, she moved away long enough to retrieve the aforementioned disinfectant along with clean bandages. She worked on the wound, careful of what she thought to be sensitive parts in her endeavour to keep Martin from an early grave. All in all, she thought she did well enough. Simone took a moment to admire her handiwork.  “That should do it.” Hopefully, no infection settled in and they did not go through an episode similar to Rasmus’. Fixing the bandage on firmly, she asked after his comfort.

“It’s alright.” His voice was tight, almost as though he lived through a bit of a struggle until he managed to put out the contribution. His hand came up to cup her cheek and she instinctively turned into his touch.

Some moments did not need words. A small smile lifted the corners of her lips. They stood there, like a couple of statues, drawing on whatever warmth they found in each other. But it could not last. Unfortunately, living in such a comfortable bubble was not feasible.  Thus she drew away, keeping the smile upon her face so as to not alarm him.

Having separated from him, Simone allowed Martin the time to redress and make himself as comfortable as he could, returning to the space which had once served as a kitchen to sight of Lea unpacking some of the food. “Where are the guys?”

“Thought they’d check the rest of the building. It won’t take them long.” She sat down at the table, reaching out in order to help. “How’s the water coming along?”

“Slow.” Conversation rolled on as they were joined by Martin, then my Jean and Patrick. Only Ramus was missing. Simone quelled the pang threatening to bring tears to her eyes.     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check this [fan-made extended intro](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v-VhkUNRxDU) for The Rain. It's pretty good.


End file.
